


Burn

by ashfalldown



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Popstar, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Popstar! E, Sad Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:51:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5430419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashfalldown/pseuds/ashfalldown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras screws up in a major way.<br/>(inspired by 'Burn' from Hamilton I'm sorry I'm so sorry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

“Grantaire?”

Grantaire didn’t acknowledge Jehan or Montparnasse as they let themselves into his bedroom. He sat in the same place on his bed he’d been for the last twenty four hours, watching video after video of Enjolras performing his new song.

“Alright.” Montparnasse stalked over to the bed, slamming the laptop shut. “That’s enough.”

“I was watching that,” Grantaire said, his voice husky from crying.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Jehan said gently, perching on the edge of the bed. “You can’t keep watching those videos.”

“Why not?” Grantaire said. “If my entire world has to burn, I might as well have the right soundtrack.”

Jehan looked over at Montparnasse. Neither of them had ever seen Grantaire like this, his usual radiance replaced with such complete misery. They had no idea what to do, or where to even begin to help him. Fortunately, the one person who did had just arrived.

“Hello?” Feuilly called up the stairs as he let himself into his brother’s apartment.

“Oh thank god,” Montparnasse muttered to Jehan as they left the room to greet him.

“I came as soon as I heard,” Feuilly said, walking up to meet them on the stairs. He dropped his voice in case Grantaire was listening. “How is he?”

Jehan shrugged. “About as well as can be expected. He hasn’t moved from his room since he found out.”

Feuilly shook his head. “I can’t believe Enjolras would do this,” he said. “God, I hope he’s happy with himself.”

“Well I’ll give him this,” Montparnasse said. “I’ve never actually seen somebody so willing to ruin their own life.”

“Poor Grantaire,” Jehan sympathised. “I wish we could do more for him, but I just… I don’t know where to start.”

“It’s okay,” Feuilly told him. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Call us if you need anything,” Jehan said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he and Montparnasse passed him.

“Thanks,” Feuilly answered, already climbing the stairs to Grantaire’s room. He pushed the door open hesitantly. “R?”

Grantaire, who was halfway through another video, twisted quickly towards the door at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Feuilly?” His voice cracked on the last syllable as he started to cry.

Feuilly rushed over, climbing onto the bed beside Grantaire. He wrapped his arms around him comfortingly.

“You were right,” Grantaire sniffled into Feuilly’s shoulder. “You were right. You told me to be careful, you said he’d do whatever he had to for fame and now…” His chest heaved as he started to sob, tears racing down his face to pool on his brother’s sweater.

“I’m sorry, R,” Feuilly murmured, tightening his arms around his brother. “I didn’t want to be right about this. I thought, maybe, Enjolras would prove me wrong, that he’d – ”

“Be faithful? Or at least not write a _fucking song_ about it?” Grantaire finished, trembling with the force of quieting his sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Feuilly repeated, not knowing what else to do. “He’s an Icarus, R, too drunk on his own greatness to see the damage he’s doing, the consequences.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Grantaire despaired. “Everything’s so messed up. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Well you can stop watching those videos, for one,” Feuilly said, freeing one hand from Grantaire’s clutches to turn off the laptop. “And you can rest. You’ll feel better once you sleep, trust me.” He spoke with the authority of an older brother, and Grantaire couldn’t argue with that. He nodded.

“Will you stay with me?” he asked in a small voice.

“Of course,” Feuilly told him. He turned to switch off the light as Grantaire slid beneath the covers, looking as small as he had when they were children. Feuilly’s heart broke.

* * *

 

When he woke in the morning, it was to the sight of Grantaire on the floor, surrounded by piles of paper.

“R?” Feuilly asked sleepily. “What are you doing?”

“Look at this!” Grantaire said, brandishing one of the pieces of paper. “’ _As long as I’m alive you’ll never feel helpless’_ – bullshit. _‘My love for you is never in doubt’ –_ bullshit. All of this – ” he gestured around the room, encompassing everything surrounding him. “Everything he ever wrote me, total and complete bullshit!”

“Grantaire…” Feuilly said warningly. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Can you just,” Grantaire sighed. “Can you just leave me alone?”

Feuilly would have argued but there was a look on Grantaire’s face, something that said he had to do this.

“I’ll be downstairs,” he said, leaving the room quietly.

Grantaire said nothing as he turned his attention back to the mess on his floor. He didn't need Feuilly to know that this was a terrible idea, but he had to do it. He was rereading everything, every line that Enjolras had ever wrote him, looking for he wasn't even sure what. Answers, an explanation, or at least a fucking  _sign_ that something was broken between them. 

He found nothing, though he shouldn't have been surprised. Enjolras was, apparently, a professional when it came to hiding things from his boyfriend. It was ridiculous to think he'd leave even an inkling that something was wrong in the love notes and songs that he'd written. Grantaire felt sick. Sick at the betrayal, at the lies, sick of crying over a man who'd proven that he didn't care. Over and over, if the tabloids were to be believed. He was sick of it all.

 

* * *

 “You’re going to have to answer that eventually,” Feuilly said at dinner, as Grantaire ignored another call from Enjolras.

 “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“You need to.”

“Why?” Grantaire demanded. “To give him a chance to apologise and feel better about himself? No thank you.”

“I could care less about how he feels,” Feuilly said, and he meant it. Whatever he might have felt for Enjolras in the past had died the second he’d broken Grantaire’s heart. “I care about you. And you need to say whatever it is that you need to say to him. You need to get it off your chest and be done with it. With him, if it’s what you want.”

Grantaire sniffled. “I can’t, Feuilly,” he said. “I can’t speak to him. I’m not ready.”

Feuilly nodded understandingly. “I understand,” he said, and he did. “But when you’re ready, you need to get it over with. I’ll be right here for you.”

As it happened, the time for Grantaire to be ready came much sooner than anybody had expected. The vultures had begun circling the remains of Grantaire and Enjolras’ relationship, in the form of paparazzi looking for the scoop on how Grantaire, as the ‘wronged party’ was dealing with the breakup. After he’d found one going through his garbage one morning, Grantaire was ready for the confrontation he’d been avoiding.

He didn’t bother waiting for Enjolras to call, like he knew that he would. He picked up the phone and dialled the number he’d deleted right after the incident, hating that he still knew it off by heart.

“I’m so glad you called,” Enjolras answered, sounding relieved.

“I just had to chase fucking paparazzi away from my garbage bins,” Grantaire replied harshly, ignoring the way his heart stuttered at the sound of Enjolras’ voice. “Do you have any idea what your little song has done to me? Done to my life?”

“R, I’m sorry,” Enjolras said, pleading. “I didn’t mean for that, for any of this to happen, but I…”

“Any of what?” Grantaire asked. “Cheating on me? With some _fan_ you met on the road, who followed your tour like a puppy? Or writing a song about it? Or telling the whole goddamned _world_ just how little you valued our relationship?”

“Grantaire, you don’t understand, I had to!”

Out of all the things Grantaire had expected, all the excuses he’d anticipated, this was not one of them. “… Excuse me?”

“I… I don’t know who it was, but someone had come forward saying that they’d seen me out partying at a bar. Drinking, drugs, everything. I couldn’t let that get out, it would have _ruined_ me. I was with her that night, it was my alibi, the only way to prove they were lying.”

“So you’d rather people know that you’re unfaithful than believe that you might have partied a little too hard one night?”

“Grantaire my whole brand, my whole image, relies on me not being seen partying a little too hard. It was the lesser of two evils, I did what I had to do.”

Grantaire laughed bitterly. “Jesus Christ, Enjolras, you are so _fucking obsessed_ with that shit. Overthinking to the point of paranoia about how your precious public perceive you. You got onstage and told the whole world that you cheated on me with this girl, just in case some of your fans might have believed an obvious lie. You’re pathetic.”

“Grantaire, please…”

“No,” Grantaire said. “No, I’m done. With this, with you, with all of it. With the whole big world that comes with you, I’m done. The world has no place in our relationship, Enjolras, the world doesn’t get to know what’s in my heart, or what we’re going through. I shouldn’t have to be chasing paparazzi away from my house because they think it’s okay to be that involved!”

“R – “ Enjolras tried again, but Grantaire was on a roll. The things he’d been dying to say were finally getting a chance to come out, and he wasn’t going to stop for anybody.

“I’m packing up all your stuff,” he said. “I’ll leave it with your label, or at the studio, or something. I don’t want to see you here again.”

“Grantaire please don’t do this,” Enjolras begged. “Please. We can work it out.”

“No,” Grantaire said firmly. “You gave up the right to work it out. You gave up the right to my home, to me, to any of it. You gave it all up, and now you have to live with that.”

He hung up before Enjolras could respond, breathing heavily. He sat down as he realised what he’d just done.

“You okay?” Feuilly asked as he came into the kitchen.

“It’s over,” Grantaire answered. “Officially.”

 “Oh, R,” Feuilly said sympathetically. “Are you alright?”

“I think so,” Grantaire said, running a hand through his hair. “I just – there’s something I need to do.”

He made a quick call to Bahorel before heading up the stairs to his room, driven by a new sense of determination. He was done with being sad about this. He had to begin to move on, to put himself first again, and that was what he intended to do.

* * *

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jehan checked. “You know you can’t go back if you regret it.”

Grantaire nodded. “I can’t keep them,” he said. “I can’t. He built a whole world for me, for us, out of words and melodies, and promises that ended up broken, and I can’t keep living there. Not after what he’s done.”

“Okay,” Jehan said. “As long as you’re sure. We’ll be inside if you need anything.”

Grantaire turned his attention to the fire blazing in the pit Bahorel had dug earlier at his request. He took one last look at the sheaf of papers in his hand, every poem, song, letter, and note Enjolras had ever written him. If Enjolras had so much as scribbled on something, it was there.

He leafed through the bundle once more, his heart aching at what he’d lost. What Enjolras had thrown away so goddamn carelessly. He let out a deep, shaky breath, and tossed the papers in the fire.

He didn’t need to turn to know that it was his brother who’d come out to join him. Feuilly’s hand wrapped around his, squeezing it comfortingly.

“You know I love you, right?” Feuilly said. “There’s nobody out there who’s as trusting or as kind as you. You’re going to be okay.”

“I know,” Grantaire said. His eyes remained on the fire, watching it burn. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> friendly reminder i am on [tumblr](http://forgetthenightlife.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to cry about this with me, and if you enjoy this kinda gay nerd content please consider [buying me a coffee!](http://ko-fi.com/A507ZD8)


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